


Virus

by Control_Room



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Caretaking, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fever Dreams, Gen, Gentle, M/M, Sick Fic, Sweet, Vomiting, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-18 16:40:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18123818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Control_Room/pseuds/Control_Room
Summary: Joey gets a little virus.Maybe he's not alone?He could use the comfort.





	Virus

“Oh, you can’t get sick anymore, oh, you’re fine,” Joey grumbled to himself, rubbing at his sore eyes. “Coding can’t get sick. But noooo, you just happened to pick up a damn virus.  _ Wonderful _ .”

 

He sneezed, head aching with the function. He groaned, tightening the blanket around himself. He shivered, looking around his office, the mattress he had placed himself on his only rock, as he shuddered and groaned. 

 

“Damn it,” he hissed, feeling his stomach roil. He was so hot, so unbearable boiling. His computer was tossed on the floor, where it had laid for the past who knows how long, as time does not work in the void. The worst part of it all was how alone he was. He whimpered, curling up on his bed. He felt darkness ebb at his vision, and he replaced the coding of his glasses to rest on his desk. “Maybe some sleep will do me… do me good.”

 

When Joey woke up, he was shaking uncontrollably, his teeth clattering together, his dark skin covered by goosebumps.

 

Nausea gripped him.

 

He leaned over his bed, vomiting ink and numbers, tears flooding his eyes as he shook, disgusted with himself. Panting, he fell back onto his side, one arm over the bed. He cleaned away the mess with a simple code, and shivered harder, the exertion from such a small fix apparently too much for his weakened form. He groaned, his entire body spiking in pain, and passed out.

 

Quiet footsteps woke him, coupled with the soft clacks of a cane.

 

A pressure formed next to him on the bed.

 

“You idiot, working yourself into the ground and getting sick from it,” a voice, sounding like it was through water, reached him. He moaned, unable to open his eyes. A hand, a cool, delightfully cool, hand, pressed to his forehead. He leaned into the touch. “Mm. No fever. Must be a virus.”

 

The hand carded through his hair, he sighing with the pleasure of just a gentle touch.

 

“Oh, Jo,” the voice, not in a disappointed tone, continued. Johan froze. He knew that tone, even if it was his own voice. His eyes blearily opened, somewhat in fear, somewhat in awe. “Hey. Did I wake you up?”

 

“M-Maggie?” he croaked, shivering, reaching a hand out to put it on the other’s arm. Solid. Johan felt tears swarm his vision as he snapped up, regretting the action as vertigo seized him. “You’re… you’re re-really here?”

 

“Hey, hey, lay back down,” Magenta instructed him, easing him back onto his back. “There we go. Yeah, why wouldn’t I come?”   
  


“Bec-cause you l-locked everyone out,” Johan whimpered, the tears in his eyes leaking out. God, he was so weak. “I… I thought you never cared about me.”

 

Magenta was silent.

 

“It’s okay if you didn’t,” Johan whispered. “But then why are you here now?”

 

“I cared about you, doofus,” Magenta, in an almost hurt tone, said. “Maybe it was just a little hard for you to see.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Johan murmured, lowering his head. “You deserve better than me.”

 

“Nah.” his hand slipped through his hair again. “I think you’re just right.” 

 

Magenta got up, making Johan flail to grab his wrist, whispering tearfully, “Please don’t leave me, please stay, please….”

 

“I’m just going to get something, sit tight,” Magenta assured him. Johan let go in defeat. “I’ll be right back.”

 

To Johan’s shock, he did return - carrying in his hands a steaming cup of tea. He passed it to him, helping him sit up and lean against the wall of his office.

 

“Drink up, Jo,” he instructed with a twinkle in his eye. “It’s good for you.”

 

“Je vous remercie,” Johan gratefully rasped, thanked him, keeping up their little joke. Magenta chuckled as Johan greedily downed the drink, the scaling liquid bringing with it a cool relief. “You’re absolutely wonderful, mi amor.”

 

“Mm, really now,” Magenta teased, taking away the empty cup and setting it on the desk. “How… about… NOW!”

 

Johan shrieked as Magenta’s hands came to his sensitive sides, made all the more sensitive by his illness, as he tickled him. Tears soon streamed down his face in his laughter, Magenta stopping only when he began coughing from the gentle torture. Johan gasped, his face flushed and giggly, feeling relaxed, eyes closing.

 

“You doing any better?” Magenta asked him softly. Johan hummed and nodded. Magenta smiled, turning him over to rub his back. “Good.”

 

“I swear I’ve died,” Johan whispered. Magenta’s hand on his back paused, questioning silently. “For this is surely heaven.”

 

“Dork,” Magenta fondly chuckled. Eventually his hand slowed, and Johan vaguely recognized the sensation of someone getting onto the bed. “My dork.”

 

“What’re ya doin’?” Johan mumbled, blearily looking over at him. Warm arms slipped around him, pulling him onto his side gently. “I’m sick, ya gonna get sick from me, Maggie.”

 

“Nope, you’ve just got a virus, it’s not contagious,” Magenta corrected him, pulling him closer, nuzzling the back of his neck, making him squeak. Magenta smiled against his skin “And what does it look like I’m doing, Johan?”

 

“I love you,” was all he managed to reply. Magenta froze up, hiding his face in the other’s hair, and muttered, “Quit being such a sap, Jo.”

 

“Hard to do that when you’re so perfectly beautiful, Maggie,” Johan managed to say, his hands coming to rest on Magenta’s on his chest. “I love you so much.”

 

“Hush,” Magenta instructed, Johan able to feel his warm blush through his hair. “Go back to sleep, Johan.”

 

“Okay,” Johan yawned, already feeling the slipping away of his conscience. “Okay, mi amor.”

 

“Good,” Magenta affirmed, his arms tightening around him, their legs tangled together. “Goodnight, Jo. Sweet dreams.”

 

“Always with you,” Johan whispered, and darkness overtook him. “I love you….”

 

Johan woke up with a gasp, shooting up, glancing around as he shivered.

 

Alone.

 

Groaning, a self hating laugh lowly left his throat.

 

Why should he have dared even hope?

 

It was a fever dream.


End file.
